


Soulless Difficulties

by LifeOfMystery



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, POV Soulless Sam Winchester, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeOfMystery/pseuds/LifeOfMystery
Summary: Sam may not have a soul, but that doesn't mean he can't feel anything.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Soulless Difficulties

“What does it feel like, not having a soul?” Dean asked, eyes shifting sideways from the road. His fingers drummed restlessly on the wheel.

“Doesn’t really feel like anything much,” Sam said. He didn’t say that sometimes he felt he could kill Dean and the only thing stopping him was the fact that Dean was the only way he could get his soul back. 

That was one of his rules he gave himself. Rules to be what seemed like normal. Don’t hurt Dean. Get your soul back. Don’t kill innocents without a reason.

Oh, sometimes he wanted to. Those nights when Dean would toss and turn in his sleep for hours on end, distracting Sam from his research, it was all too easy to think of just picking up the knife and-

And that was why he had the rules. He may not have a soul, but he knew all too well what would not be a good thing to do, for Sam’s own general continued safety and wellbeing. And that was number one on the list.

So for now, keep Dean alive.

“Doesn’t feel like anything at all.”

-

“Why the hell did you do that?” Dean yelled at him.

“Do what?” Sam yelled back.

“You left her in there to die!”

“If I hadn’t left her, we’d have all died!”

Not exactly true, his brain corrected. Dean would have died, too afraid to hack and slash at the thing possessing the waitress. Or would have possessed.

Leaving her to die from the flames was clearly the logical choice, but he always seemed to get it wrong in Dean’s eyes. Sam didn’t feel much, but he hated that. His rules were complicated and overly emotional and Sam disagreed with nearly everyone of them, and yet.

He just kept trying to follow them. Old Sam would have, so he knew he should. Listen to the rules, listen to Dean.

Dean didn’t understand, kept assuming he knew what to do, what was the right thing to do, each and every time. What would really be helpful was a large printed list with numbered instructions. Hopefully even colour coded.

All he had to go on was guesswork of what a fully souled human would do. Which was pretty damn difficult.

“I’m going to go research,” he said through gritted teeth, and slammed the motel door behind him.

Sam sat beside the impala, staring up at the moon. At least here there were no rules.


End file.
